News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-07-21
"You wanted to get high marks 2"

"You wanted to get high marks 2"
"Yes"-the desire for winning praise
not looking so fair as before.
$50 you wanted to get that book be
fore any of the others z"
''Yes'-lOwer still. AL the love o.
self, all the greed, rising up before him.
ooh, Jamie p
"Oh, Chip, pity mel Don't hate
me ?" cried poor Benton, breaking
down at last s'Oh, what would father
and mother think !'
"Oh, Jamie, Tn so so1y!" whispered
/ Chapman, waiting in loving silence till
his brother had regained his self-con-
! troll. CT
''It's all SO awful, Cbippie-and I
| don't know what to do sand I was so
angry when they found out-I am afraid
was rude, too, to the librarian when
he spoke with me-and then came the
letter from the President and all-and
oh, it's such disappointment" said
Benton when he could speak again.
| Chapman made no reply, and a long
silence fell between them, which was
broken at length by the little boy S voice,
saying, gently:
':Did you tell them you were sorry
for it allI''
"No; / don't think 1 was sorry then.
Perhaps not till now. It wouldn't have
made a bit Of difference, though, if [
had apologized."
''But [ should think you should just
want to say you are sorry-even now, "
replied Chapman.
The quiet that fell between them
again was interrupted by shouting, and
the sound of some trouble in the farm
yard. Away ran Chippie to join i'll the
fun of driving the cattle out of the corn
field.
Benton soon returned to the house,
gave Chippie fine swing in the barn,
talked merely at tea-time to prevent the
old subjects being touched upon, after
tea mended some harness for his uncle,
and then sat down to his books in the
evening, but with the certainty that he
would probably accomplish little study.
For, running parallel to all he had been
busy about that evening, were the words
-"Did you tell them you were sorry for
it ALP And all the time he had been
answering those words: He had not been
sorry at the time-should he write an
apology! The very phrase was repellent
to his pride. Twas too late now.
Twas far into July. Where were the
President and Faculty, anyway? They
would not care at all for an apology. It
would make no difference to them. [
could not help the matter any. 81
should think you would just want to
say you are SOTry-even now"
Chapman, glad to see the smiles on his
brothers face again, had been merrier
and happier than usual. But when he
was abed, and almost asleep, he reused
up as Benton opened his heavy diction-
ary, and said, half sleepily, "Jamie, I
am afraid you care too much for study
ing" The little fellow only meant that
he pitied his brother hard at work on
lessons, which to him had always been
rather of trial, and wished him the
of the sleep, into which he
himself was fast dropping.
Goodnight, sleepy-head!" returned
Benton, laughing. But as the boy
nestled back into dreamland, Benton
grew sober. perhaps [ do care too
much for study. Perhaps that is what
has led me SO astray." This new
thought pressed out the old one. The
dictionary lay open, but the leaves were
lie soon put out the lamp,
and sat in the deepening darkness
striving to place his towering ambition
for learning, for public acknowledge
ment, on a lower plane, that it might
not be his first thought. Then, keeling
by the bedside OF his sleeping brother,
he reconsecrated his life in its first
manly strength all to the Higher Ser
vice.
Benton woke the next morning with
the peace of holier purposes and nobler
about him. He woke by
hearing the Foice of Chapman saying:
"Why, it is the First Command
ment!'
"What is, Chippie?"
"Here, on my little calendar-the text
for to-day: Thou shalt have no other
gods before me- Then it gives another
text, too: 'Ye cannot serve God and ma
mon.'"
"Nammon," corrected Benton. 81
guess that's @ly calendar for to-day,
Chippie. After breakfast, Chip, if uncle
will let us have the team, We'll drive
down to the postoffice. want to send
a letter saying, I'm sorry
'I'll find out nOw!" cried Chapman,
delightedat at the thought of the two miles
drive. "Uncle is already down. [ heard
him hollering to the cows"
But it was some time after breakfast
before the letter was ready, very simple
and direct and earnest though it was.
No reply came from the distinguished
body to whom he wrote. Indeed, Ben
ton expected none. But the days had
hardly counted week before there came
n letter from one of the professors in
whose classes Benton had been, and to
whom his letter of apology had been
shown. Such warm, fatherly letter it
was that it seemed to Benton as if-nOw
that he had righted himself-all the
angels of heaven and earth were stretch
ing out helping hands to him. The
value of the friendship thus advanced to
him he never attempted to measure.
The friendship was not short-lived, but,
then, extended through the
months of earnest work which followed,
and continued when he re-entered his
name in the college records and became
again the recipient of his alma matters
bounty and hOnors.